Dorian and the King
by HowltheGreat
Summary: Dorian finds out that King Alistair has been married to a man all these years and nervously asks for advice on breaking tradition. [Based in the same world as my other Dragon Age fics]
1. Chapter 1

"Your Majesty, may I have a moment of your time?" Dorian asked as he timidly approached the relaxed king with a formal bow.

"Hmm?" acknowledged Alistair as he pulled himself away from the balcony's ledge of the library with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, it's you. The Tevinter. …Listen, if you wish to discuss religion or the politics between our two nations…well. Frankly, I'm just not in the mood, so…"

"Ha! No, nothing like that, I assure you."

"Oh. Well then," the Ferelden smiled. "Shoot."

"As I understand it, your significant other is…a man?"

"Oh." There was a small laugh to break the tension. "That. Yes, the Prince-Consort of Ferelden is a man. Were he a she, then it'd be Princess-Consort, wouldn't it? Sweet Maker, he'd hate that even more than being called Queen." There was a shudder to his voice as he was completely serious. "Do you want to speak to him? I'm sure he's around here somewhere griefing his cousin."

"No, no, I was actually hoping to ask you on…well…how you came to be married at all. To him, I mean."

"You mean to ask me how I got away with being married to another man for the past ten plus years as king rather than marrying a woman to make little royal babies with? Or something less invasive like who picked out the flowers and cake for the wedding?"

"I apologize if I have offended you, your Grace. You see, where I come from, that sort of relationship is only accepted if it is purely sexual. One would never dare to tie the proverbial knot with someone of the same gender." Though the grey eyes did wander off to the side. "Not without becoming a pariah, though I did hear the flowers and cake at your ceremony were quite marvelously."

"They were! There were little griffons made of spun sugar and the flowers hid the smell of all the mabari hounds running around. Izzy and I also weren't born in Tevinter, so those rules didn't exactly apply to us."

"But the requirements for nobility are basically the same no matter what country you're in."

"I was also raised in a barn."

"…I understand the south is a bit more primitive than…oh," Dorian hesitated. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Completely serious and, according to the rumours, with the dogs at that. Then I was taken in by the Chantry until the Grey Wardens raised the rest of me in basically another barn. Okay, so it wasn't really another barn, but the stench! And none of them had any sugared griffons. Can you believe that?"

"But then you met your beloved during the Blight, if the stories are true."

"Indeed, so after being raised in a barn, a Chantry, and then equally smelly place, I met the love of my life," Alistair counted on his fingers. "It was the best thing that had ever happened to me and I wasn't about to let being king take him away." Another grin plastered itself on his lips. "Besides, he was actually mostly raised as a noble and is far better at this sort of thing than I am. If given the chance, I'd let people call me their Queen if it was more covenant for them. It doesn't bother me nearly as much." Dorian laughed, highly amused at the conversation.

"I'm sure being king isn't all that bad. You're at least allowed to tell the other stuffed shirts to shove their traditions up their arses."

"And don't forget the sugared griffons!"

"That goes without saying!"

"We were also owed a favor for killing the archdemon as well and you did help defeat Corypheus. If you're wondering if that's enough to tell the other stuffed shirts to jump off a bridge if you're looking to marry their Inquisitor, you probably have enough leverage by now. I mean, there was also a dragon involved. They do love it when you kill a dragon." Dorian blushed at the mention of any future plans, pressing his lips together in fear of having said too much already. "If your heart's in the right place don't let trivial matters get in the way," he was encouraged before the king caught a glimpse of his husband walking underneath on the ground floor. "And if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend too."

Alistair ran as quickly as he could down the spiral staircase to embrace Izarre Cousland from behind for all see. They teased each other while whispering secrets and snickering at inside jokes. Those around lowered their heads at the sight of the pair walking arm-in-arm as they wore their visible matching rings without shame.

From inside of the mage's robes, an amulet on a gold chain was removed; a duplicate of his own bearing the Pavus family crest with the name of his amatus engraved on the back.


	2. Bonus

"Your Majesty," Dorian greeted the king with a polite bow in their typical meeting spot on the second floor of the tower near the collection of books gathered there. "I…do not mean to be rude, but your face is a bit more…harried than usual." Indeed, King Alistair peered down below the railing at passerbyers, unflinching with tired eyes and a set frown. "Is something troubling you?"

"Izzy," was said after an uncomfortable silence. "He…He cut his hair." Dorian's eyes widened. He had noticed the fresh cut on the handsome prince. The once back-length silver hair was chopped short to just above his shoulders. "And when he pulls it up, it looks like one of these spiky white flowers, you know? What are those? Peonies? Lotuses?"

"You mean dahlias?"

"Whatever they are! It's awful!" Chewing on his lip, Alistair returned to staring off and sulking. "I can't concentrate when I'm around him…"

"…It doesn't look that bad," Dorian tried to ease the situation. "I'm sure if you dislike short hair that much, he will grow it out again."

"What?" Confused, Alistair shook his head. "It's not that I don't like it!" he argued and turned to put his hands on the mage's shoulders. "I love it! It suits him very well and the best part is when he pulls it up, you can see his slender pale neck! I just want to bury my face in it and kiss it and…!" His cheeks turned dark pink as he stopped himself from ranting and recrossed his arms after he stopped shaking the Tevinter wildly. "I can't concentrate at all! We were speaking to an Orlesian ambassador the other day and I have no idea what I even said. Something about ham…"

"Oh. My," Dorian smiled as he cleared his throat from a chuckle. "Maybe…then you should ask him to wear it down?"

"That's even worse! He does this extremely cute nervous tuck behind his ears when being stared at and…ugh. Maker save me…"

"Ha! Vesper does that as well and Cullen said the same about Hawke…Yes, I understand what you mean. Well, how about a high-collared shirt? You wear them yourself and it's frigidly cold down here in the south, so…" Alistair's head popped up as if the clouds had been lifted.

"Yes! That! Thank you! Ah, I could kiss you! Not that I would, you know, all things considered… I shall have some shirts tailored at once!" Dorian watched the king run off then, smiling to himself at his good deed.

"What was that all about?" Vesper Trevelyan asked after having to sidestep from being run over.

"Oh, nothing," Dorian smiled to his lover as an arm snaked its way around Vesper's hips. "Just assisting the King of Ferelden on some very important business. Have I told you how much I adore you today? " As his hand squeezed the other mage's side, he watched the Inquisitor move a loose strand of hair behind his ear and adjust the Tevinter family amulet hanging from his neck. "I love you, Amatus."


	3. Bonus 2

Dorian stood in the ramparts above the training grounds where he could watch his beloved, Vesper Trevelyan, being lectured on how mages could be more effective in hand-to-hand combat by his cousin and highly combative mage, Izarre Cousland. It was a bit amusing, seeing the Inquisitor being verbally broken down by an older man half his size, though anyone who had made the mistake of confusing the short, delicate-looking prince as an easy target was already in the infirmary having their wounds stitched and bruises iced. "He could go easier the trainees," Alistair laughed as he took a place to also observe.

"Nonsense. A good beating will remind them not to judge a book by his very pretty cover," the Tevinter scoffed. "I hope my staring wasn't the reason why you came up here, your Majesty. I have no intentions towards him, I assure you. Only making sure Vesper doesn't lose an eye or anything. I'm rather fond of his parts, after all." Another chuckle came from the king, who shook his head.

"No, I was looking for you, actually. I realized I may have been a bit…defensive when you asked about my marriage and never really answered your question."

"No apology necessary." A ringed hand waved in dismissal. "Besides, what you're really saying is that you were forced to do so because your better half down there coerced you into it. Do not fear. I won't write home to the magisters telling them how much I enjoy your company. They'll start a war for sure!" Though Alistair smirked, he paused to look down at the field below. A smile crept from his lips as he waved when his presence was noticed.

"You wanted to know why I fought so hard to keep him, yes? It's because I nearly lost him more than once during the Blight. We met as children, you see. Briefly before I was moved to the chantry. Even though he was technically a noble, he still took his time to help a nobody like me finish chores I would have been beaten for if I didn't. He didn't ask for anything in return, only for me not to forget him. The second time was in Ostagar. He took a killing blow from a darkspawn ogre meant for me instead. Again, didn't ask for anything in return. He didn't consider me to be indebted to him or forced to repay the favor… He just wanted me to be alive and well." Dorian looked off into the distance, his fingers tracing over the once lost amulet around his neck. Below, Vesper caught the glint of its reflection in his eye and waved at his lover.

"I know the feeling," he nodded then blew a kiss, failing to keep the amused expression away as Vesper gave the gesture a playful catch to pocket for later. "To be given all and be asked for nothing. It's frightening, isn't it?"

"It is," Alistair agreed. "…Did you know that Grey Wardens are supposed to die when they kill an archdemon? Something about the soul of the tainted ancient god being drawn to other tainted beings like a moth to a flame. It needs to find a soulless vessel with the same filth in its blood, say another darkspawn, in order to keep living." Raising an eyebrow, Dorian looked intrigued.

"That…makes sense."

"So, when a Grey Warden kills it, there's already a soul there. Two souls can't survive in the same body and…boom. Dead old god. Dead Grey Warden. End of Blight."

"…But you didn't die? Obviously."

"…I wasn't the one who stabbed its vitals at the end." Alistair's head motioned towards the ground. "He did. And by the blessings of the Maker, we skirted death…though he was out cold for days. He wasn't dead exactly, but I never knew if he would awaken again. When he did, he told me how he had been stuck in the Fade with demons tempting him, but my voice brought him back. I wanted to swear I would never let him do something so reckless ever again, but I knew I couldn't stop him. Hawkes are a stubborn lot. Must be something in the blood."

"If it makes you feel any better, not many mages can pull away from that sort of temptation. He's quite strong in his convictions then. And with love for you. Very few people can claim such things."

"Not just that," the king shook his head. "He can see them. Spirits and such. He says that demons look like a black monster wearing a melting wax mask of the person they wish you to see, all distorted and such. He can hear their real voice and smell the rot. Spirits are apparently just a glowing mass of color, depending on their virtue. It's how he recognized Cole. How he still sees Justice in Anders' body. The world they create is patchwork and false, like a painting or rag doll with old seams. Bits of reality start to bleed in. I can't see it that way though. When I was there, everything looked on the up and up to me."

"You were in the Fade? How in Andraste's name did you end up there?"

"Oh, you know. Demon summoned by blood magic put us all in a trance when we were saving everyone else's arses in the Circle of Magi." Dorian's mustache twitched at the very thought.

"What did you see, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"My sister…or someone I thought was my sister at the time. Her and her family treated me like one of their own. A far cry from our actual encounter. Izzy saw through the lies though. He took my face and told me that he was my real family. Someone who loved me without these conditions. It didn't matter who my father was or what I would become…and it worked." There was a bashful smile as he looked down again, his eyes catching his lover's. It caused the younger royal to nervously tuck a hair behind his pale ear before turning his attention back to yelling at an inexperience dwarf over a weak defensive stance. "In the Fade after he killed the archdemon, he told me that he saw his life as if the Blight had never happened. His parents were alive and he was set to marry some noblewoman. He made it to the wedding where the woman looked like me and all of the guests were in tattered, blood-covered clothes. Most were dead. The only ones alive were our companions, Morrigan and the others. He said he heard me calling his name and followed it out."

"You two must share a very special bond then. And that must have been a very ugly woman."

"Ha! Thank you… I think! I'm sure you and Vesper have a similar bond."

"Yes, he would also make a very ugly woman."

"And you wouldn't?"

"Of course not, but he has poor taste. I don't think that would matter much to him!"

"There are still three Hawkes left, but they still feel like a lonely bunch, don't they? I never want to leave Izzy alone again even though I know he really isn't. He's got more family than I do now and I still feel so protective, even after all these years. I'm sure you feel the same way about Vesper."

"Actually, there are four," Cullen interrupted and leaned over the stone barrier as Seren Hawke appeared below in the training grounds. "You're forgetting Carver, you know, the younger brother. He also just had twin girls, so there are really six. We're outnumbered, lads! For better or worse."

"Not all bad, for sure," Alistair smiled as he lined up next to Cullen with Dorian close by. "Holidays are going to be a riot. Quite literally if Izzy hits the ale barrels hard enough."

"Vesper's no better at holding whatever swill Iron Bull pushes his way... Not that I won't partake myself, " the Tevinter added.

"Seren would be lucky enough just to dodge my sister. Maker," Cullen laughed. "But it's what we signed up for." The three men nodded, knowing it was all true and wouldn't have it any other way.


	4. Bonus 2 Track B

"What do you mean, _Don't use your staff_?" Vesper Trevelyan asked, trying to understand he was suddenly being told not to be a mage.

"Waving a stick around while wearing an evening gown is no way to defend yourself. If you're going properly use that manifested Knight-Enchanter's sword of yours, you're going to need both hands!" The bickering continued with his older cousin and fellow magic user, Izarre Cousland. "And you there!" The short prince turned his wrath on another trainee attacking a dummy as if were about to spring to life at any moment and eat her alive. "If you drop your stance one more time, I will stab you myself!" Vesper sighed, his attention turning to the overhead ramparts where he noticed two familiar figures standing there.

"We're being watched." A gesture was made to look upward.

"Watched? Oh, Maker. He's staring again…" Izarre blushed behind his chopped, layer bangs as he saw his husband, King Alistair Therin, with Dorian looming overhead and nervously tucked them behind an ear. "Stop waving! You're encouraging this!"

"Aw, but it's so sweet," Vesper teased as he jumped to catch a blown kiss from his beloved to put into a non-existing pocket. "Fine, fine. Let's get back to work then. I believe you were explaining to me why I can't use my staff in between sending the rest of my soldiers to the operating theater?

"Hold it up like you're about to fight." Obeying, it was held in one hand as the other gripped the enchanted sword hilt. "Are you ready to defend yourself against an incoming attack?"

"Yes! …OW!" The staff and hilt fell as Vesper held his bleeding face after it was headbutted into.

"And that's why."

"I think you broke my nose!"

"I didn't break it. It's just busted a bit. You're a healer, right? Fix it up and stop crying."

"I'm not crying! I'm just surprised! Who fights like that anyway?" It was begrudgingly pinched as white swirls cocooned over the bruised and bleeding flesh to at least stop the torrents of red.

"…Did I miss out on all the fun?" Seren Hawke asked with a smirk as he walked out into the courtyard. "There's a..bit of blood on your face, Iz."

"Don't worry, it's not mine," he laughed and pointed towards Hawke's still wailing son. "Oh! Wait!" He then smeared a bit over the bridge of his nose. "Since we're related, I suppose this is more appropriate?"

"…That's just mean. I swear, that only happened once! No one told me I had blood on my face for the entire evening and Varric made it seem like I did it on purpose. Who in their right mind would walk like that?"

"You, apparently," Izarre laughed and pointed up to the ramparts. "I see Cullen is up there with the rest of the hens. …I wonder what they're talking about…"

"Us, probably," Seren turned to grin as wide as he could. "It's like they have a knitting circle or something. The men of Hawke's…men? I swear, that sounded better in my head...as do most things."

"So, you are Cullen are…official?" Vesper asked as he finally managed to take the edge off and wipe his nostrils clean with a sleeve. "...Does that mean I have two new fathers now?"

"…Well, they are sleeping together," Izarre shrugged.

"I've slept with a lot of people and didn't hold a relationship with all of them, you know. Take your parents, for example. I mean, the things I did to Lord Trevelyan alone were…Oh. Right… You probably don't want to hear that, do you?" The Inquisitor's eyes turned wide and he put a hand up to stop that train of thought.

"I rather believe I was created out of love than a drunk orgy, thank you, but you didn't answer the question. Are you and he an item?" There was a hesitation from Hawke and he turned to look up at Cullen once again, who returned the gaze with loving eyes.

"…Sometimes you have to go full circle before realizing you had something great and were too much of a coward to take a chance. If he's willing to forgive me on that, I can hardly say no…"

"So…?"

"Sweet Andraste, yes! Yes! Fucking…yes. There," he replied somewhere between embarrassed and too flustered to argue.

"I knew it!" But Vesper grimaced as Hawke gave his sore nose a flick. "Bloody hell!"

"Keep your defences up!" his father laughed. "Come on, I'll buy you a pint."


End file.
